“We’ve got a situation.” Fleet Captain Geronimo Fontana was on the viewscreen on the smaller bridge of the USS Gagarin. The ship had been the first in the line of the heavy escort class, and her journey had been filled with danger and discovery in equal parts. The Gagarin had seen Frontier Day up close, and the damage required a significant refit. The bridge had been replaced with an Akira-class-style command center. It wasn’t as spacious as most bridges and focused on the escort duties that the Gagarin was being positioned for within the Montana Squadron.

Helena Dread sat in the command seat. Lieutenant Sadie Fowler, her executive officer in training, was behind her at the operations console. Dread replied, “We saw the report an hour ago. Tougun isn’t taking his time, is he?” Tougun had seized control of much of rimward Orion Syndicate operations. It hadn’t helped they bore some responsibility for it.

Fontana groused, “No, he is not. Dragonfly is on her way to the colony to support and get them back on their feet. I’m tasking you with some Syndicate hunting.” He tapped at his console on the desk, and details slid across the screen as he continued, “We’ve been tracking his organization’s movements – intel has some guesses on where some ships will be. Your orders are to listen and observe…but if any threat comes to a Federation colony or someone calls for help – you have been cleared to take proportional action using the full breadth of the Gagarin’s abilities.”

A few glances at his last sentence were shared. The Gagarin was a heavy hitter. That meant action, but it also meant risk. Dread answered, “We’ll get underway.” The channel closed, and she turned to the tried and tested crew, “Readiness reports from department heads within the hour. We haven’t had much time to get to know the Gagarin…but the Orion Syndicate isn’t going to wait for us, the bastards.” She smiled and appreciated the chuckles that were shared. They had grown together quickly, and she was thankful she could retain most of them. “Let’s get to work.”

The door chime to her new ready room rang, “Enter.” Sadie Fowler stepped in, her eyes as wide as they had been when they’d taken command of the Gagarin the day before. “Take a seat, Sadie.”

The young woman obliged nervously. She handed a PADD to Dread, “Shift reports are complete. Double checked. I had to kick two back for revisions.” She blew out a sigh, “That was scary.”

Helena scrolled through the reports, “Who were the revisions?”

Fowler replied, “Jake and Sam. Jake didn’t have the correct dates or the changes in the shift schedule. Sam’s was missing her updated caseload report.” Her heart rate was slowing down after talking to them an hour ago.

“What was scary about it?” Dread leaned over her desk. She had bent Wren Walton’s ear on how best to train an executive officer. As much as Fowler would be coached, Helena knew she would be learning just as much. Milton Ford had been an easy placement – he knew enough about the how and what. Fowler was more of a blank slate.

Sadie held onto the chair’s arms gently as her eyes searched the ceiling. She turned thoughtfully and said, “It’s different when you have to tell someone how to do their job better. They were all people I worked with before…, but now it’s different. Not bad, and not awful…just different.” She kept her grip on the chair’s arms. “I know I can do this, Captain Dread. I want this.”

Helena tapped at the PADD, accepting the reports, “That’s half the fight, Fowler. Get us underway, Lieutenant Fowler.”

Sadie stood hesitantly, “You mean…”

Dread turned her attention to her console, “Yes, I do.”

The new XO stood, left the ready room, and walked slowly down the hall back to the bridge. She paused at the archway, taking a few deep breaths. “I can do this,” she whispered to herself. Taking several more calming breaths, she stepped onto the bridge and walked gently to the center chair where she sat, hands gripping the arms. “Helm, plot an intercept course for our destination – maximum warp.”

At the helm, William Prentice allowed a small smile to cross his lips, “Course plotted, sir. Ready to engage at your order.”

The bridge crew turned to Fowler, who forced her eyebrows down and said, “Engage.” The Gagarin jumped to warp as the crew returned to their duties, all smiles. Fowler released her grip on the chair.

Warp speed, indeed.